Page 26 of Infernal Affairs

Mr. Flowers leans in, breathing deeply. “You made these yourself, Daisy?”

Daisy smiles bravely. “Yes. Enoch helped today.”

Her cheeks pink. She looks pleased and mortified all at once. Violet makes a little tsk against her teeth.

“I thought you were in…management or consulting.”

“Violet,” Daisy warns softly.

“It’s fine,” I say, pulling out the chair beside Daisy. “I like helping Daisy whenever I can.”

I can almost hear Violet assembling her internal bullet points.

“And you’re…what? Originally from out west?”

“Out of state,” I say. It’s technically inaccurate for this continent’s evolutionary history, but it plays better in polite company. “Nowhere you’ve ever been before.”

“Do you mind if I ask…how old you are, exactly?” Mr. Flowers asks bluntly. “You look young, but…” He gestures vaguely at my face, my splayed hand, my horns.

I resist the urge to set the table on fire with a flick of my wrist.

“I’m older than I can explain, but think of me as thirty-five. Give or take. It’s sometimes difficult to convert the years exactly.”

Silence settles over the table for a moment.

Then Violet asks quietly, “But you’ll…age differently. Compared to Daisy, I mean.”

“Yes,” I say, because there’s no use lying. “I’m immortal. And my bonded mate would be too.”

Mr. Flowers whistles awkwardly.

“Plenty of time to break bad habits.”

“Speaking of habits,” Mrs. Flowers says as she reenters with the drinks, “we don’t mean to pry, but it’s not every day Daisy brings home a…demon.”

She sets the glasses down and attempts a reassuring smile. It’s a bit like watching someone walk a tightrope over a pit filled with their own anxieties.

Daisy nearly chokes on her ale.

“Mom, you can't just say⁠—”

“It’s alright,” I say softly. “It’s not a slur in my case.”

Mrs. Flowers visibly relaxes.

“Our neighbor in college dated a satyr, briefly,” she confides. “We got used to the hooves.”

Violet fixes her gaze on me, then Daisy.

“So…you’re dating seriously?”

Beneath the table, Daisy squeezes my knee. She’s shivering ever so slightly.

“Yes,” she says. “We are.”

Violet’s lips part, but she appears to reconsider whatever she was about to say.

I can guess, though.